Stained
by midnightregret
Summary: in the seedy underbelly of the night-club world love blossoms in the strangest of places. oliver slash
1. Intrigued

Title: Intrigued (1/?)  
  
Series: Stained  
  
Authors: Regret and Cai  
  
Pairing: Blaise/Oliver  
  
Rating: PG-13 for the moment – sexual innuendo and blatant craving.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
  
Emails: midnightmelodyshotmail.com (Cai) and theregretfairyyahoo.com (Regret)  
  
Warnings/Spoilers: Not really. This is basically all in our own little world...Angst. Watch out for the angst...  
  
Disclaimer: We don't own. We've no money. Don't sue. Won't do any good, anyway...the song is "Chained to You," off Savage Garden's Affirmation CD. We all know where the characters came from...  
  
Dedication: Kass. It needs no explanation.  
  
The sweating, twirling, moving mass surrounds me.  
  
I can feel the arms and legs of others encircling me as we swirl around the dance floor.  
  
Muggle music blares from the speakers around us and the lights are shifting crazily by the time I decide I need a break.  
  
I can feel the moisture seeping through my cloths, the sweat and spit and...  
  
And other things.  
  
At least there aren't any stains on my jeans this time.  
  
I sit at a random table, knowing the people there won't mind me.  
  
Everyone here loves me.  
  
And I'm not being vain.  
  
They have reason to love me.  
  
I am the entertainer.  
  
I get things started.  
  
I keep them moving.  
  
My mood sets the tone for the rest of the night...  
  
For everyone else...  
  
And I enjoy it.  
  
Happy...  
  
Sinister...  
  
Sleek...  
  
Beautiful.  
  
These are things I know about myself.  
  
Shaking the honey-blond curls from my face I watch my table-mates kissing.  
  
Tongue.  
  
That's what I want.  
  
Tongue.  
  
Nodding to myself I look around for a likely partner.  
  
I can feel their eyes resting on me.  
  
The way they follow me...  
  
I glance about...  
  
And see someone not looking...  
  
See someone not watching...  
  
Not following my every move.  
  
Egocentric?  
  
I call it self-confidence.  
  
The fact that I can know myself and my attributes so well.  
  
But many say I'm self-centered and over-arrogant.  
  
And still more love me for it.  
  
But this person...  
  
He sits at a table...  
  
He sips from a tall glass...  
  
And he watches the dancers...  
  
But not me.  
  
He doesn't even seem to notice me.  
  
I stand and feel the breaths of those around me drawing in...  
  
Feel the expectation rising...  
  
They all know how the night will end...  
  
They all know...  
  
And this person does not.  
  
This man, sitting in the club...  
  
My club...  
  
Doesn't suspect...  
  
But he will.  
  
He will know.  
  
He will feel it by the time I am finished with him.  
  
I walk near him...  
  
To see...  
  
If he will look up.  
  
If he will make eye contact...  
  
But...  
  
He keeps staring out at the dancers...  
  
The gyrating mass of bodies...  
  
The people who seek oblivion...  
  
Pumping to the music...  
  
But...  
  
Many of them are not dancing...  
  
I grin.  
  
I know what many of them are doing.  
  
Have done it many times myself.  
  
Will do it tonight.  
  
With a man who, at this moment, doesn't know I exist.  
  
Oh...  
  
But he will.  
  
He stands.  
  
He walks onto the dance floor.  
  
And he begins to move.  
  
The current song ends...  
  
Another begins...  
  
"And I think about it all the time,  
  
Sweet temptation rush all over me,  
  
And I think about it all the time,  
  
Passion desire so intense,  
  
I can't take anymore because...  
  
I feel the magic all around you,  
  
It's bringing me to my knees,  
  
Like a wannabe,  
  
I've gotta be chained to you..."  
  
I love this song.  
  
And at this moment, I can't think of a better one to begin stalking him to...  
  
He dances...  
  
Magnificently.  
  
Wonderfully.  
  
It's like he's calling to me.  
  
He turns and twists, wiggles and gets lost in the music. 


	2. Faded

a/n: all lyrics in this chapter are from puddle of mudd's 'control'. the characters are still jkr's.

stained: faded (2/?)

by regret

I love the way you look at me I feel the pain you place inside 

_You lock me up inside your dirty cage well I'm alone inside my mind_

_I like to teach you all the rules I get to see them set in stone_

_I like it when you chain me to the bed but then your secrets never show_

I've been here for quite a while, sipping slowly from my glass and watching, just…*watching* the masses move. Swaying to a demanding rhythm that beats against something animal in all of us.

I can feel his eyes upon me, hungry curious eyes, and detest their presence. 

I didn't come here to fuck-dance.

            No, not tonight.

            So I remove myself from the table. Remove myself from his line of sight.

            And begin to dance.

            To twirl and sway and bend and thrust as the world around me, the many sad and callous things that drove me here, fade away.

            I've lost them in the passion red and midnight blue of the music pounding against my body like breaking waves.

            I've lost them in the bodies that touch and grope and kiss and move against me.

            I've lost them here and hope they stay gone.

            Gone, gone…

            *gone*.

I need to feel you – you need to feel me 

_I can't control you – you're not the one for me no!_

_I can't control you – you can't control me_

_I need to feel you – so why's there even a you and me?_

            But it's a rare thing indeed for my wishes to come true.

            I feel him creeping up on me, and fight to keep my guise of nonchalance. It wouldn't do me any good to give myself away now.

            Even if I don't want him he will have me.

            That's just the way the world works.

            The way *his* world works.

            For mine stopped spinning long ago.

I like the way you rake my skin I feel the hate you place inside 

_I need to get you out of my head 'cause I'm the guy you'll never find_

_I think you know all of the rules there's no expressions on your face_

_I hope that someday you will let me go release me from my dirty cage_


	3. Denied

Stained Chpt 3 : Denied  
  
Lyrics taken from Savage Garden's song "Truly Madly Deeply." All other disclaimers in chapter one.  
  
I can see him.  
  
He's still dancing.  
  
His movements are driving me crazy.  
  
I want him moving like that against me.  
  
I want his hands spanning my waist like that.  
  
I want to feel his leg pressing inexorably between my thighs.  
  
I want...  
  
Him.  
  
His oblivious nature baffles me.  
  
He keeps moving away from me, no matter now hard I try to catch him.  
  
He's been doing it all night.  
  
From the very first minute he realized I wanted him.  
  
He's tempting me.  
  
He's offering to others what I want.  
  
If I don't get him soon I will...  
  
What will I do?  
  
This new emotion is confusing.  
  
Jealousy?  
  
Impatience?  
  
These are things I haven't felt in quite a while.  
  
Never about someone who interested me sexually.  
  
And does he ever interest me...  
  
More than anyone has in quite a while.  
  
My jaded sensibilities are...  
  
Yearning for him.  
  
Longing for him to touch me that way.  
  
To lick my skin like that.  
  
There are so many things I want to do to him, to have him do to me in return...  
  
And he's doing them to other people.  
  
He's driving me insane!  
  
If I don't have him soon...  
  
If he doesn't have me soon...  
  
The bodies around me are slowing.  
  
It's nearing dawn.  
  
"I'll be your dream,  
  
I'll be your wish,  
  
I'll be your fantasy,  
  
I'll be your hope,  
  
I'll be your love,  
  
Be everything thing that you need..."  
  
The song's coming from the speaker beside me.  
  
Much slower than the music from earlier tonight.  
  
But then, the crowd who was here earlier is gone.  
  
They got what they came for.  
  
Sex.  
  
Dancing.  
  
Music.  
  
Oblivion.  
  
But they didn't get their show.  
  
They didn't get me.  
  
Because I wouldn't be with anyone else.  
  
And he wouldn't be with me.  
  
My sexual frustration is amazing.  
  
The fact that I have held off this long says so much for my restraint.  
  
I growl.  
  
This is becoming too difficult.  
  
And he's leaving the dance floor.  
  
I follow.  
  
As I have all night.  
  
And realization strikes.  
  
He knows what he's doing.  
  
He's known all along.  
  
I prowl along behind him, too far away to do anything, yet close enough to see him trailing his fingers along the base of someone else's spine...  
  
Brushing his fingers through someone else's hair...  
  
And all the while he's walking away...  
  
All the while he's on the move.  
  
All the while he's tempting me.  
  
Moving closer to him as he pauses near the door, I see his eyes flick in my direction. Then he grabs a coat off the rack and pushing the metal door out.  
  
Dawn floods into the room.  
  
The people near the entrance squint and complain, but I follow.  
  
And those behind me are intrigued.  
  
The regulars have never seen me act this way about anyone.  
  
Never.  
  
And the ones who are there for a one-time look into my world...  
  
They think I'm insane.  
  
But I follow him.  
  
The brightness doesn't faze me as much as I thought it would.  
  
He's thrown on the jacket...  
  
And the last lyrics of the song follow me out as the door closes...  
  
"I will be strong,  
  
I will be faithful,  
  
Cause I'm counting on,  
  
A new beginning,  
  
A reason for living,  
  
A deeper meaning..."  
  
He hears me walking behind him.  
  
He turns around.  
  
His black jeans and the leather of the jacket blend...  
  
He raises his arms as he walks backward and says, "What do you want?"  
  
The heels of my boots click on the paved road.  
  
"You," I answer, keeping up.  
  
"No, you don't," he says, swinging back around. "You don't know what you're getting into," he calls over his shoulder as he rounds a corner.  
  
"No," I say as I make the corner and find he's vanished, "But I'd love to find out..." 


	4. Trust

a/n: lyrics are this time from vanessa carlton. characters *still* belong jkr.

stained ch. 4: trust

by regret

I look inside myself and see my heart is black 

_I see my red door and it's heading into black_

_Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts_

_It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black_

He's following me.

            Despite all my warnings, all my attempts to turn him to someone, *any*one, else.

            He's following *me*.

            I turn to face him, though still walking away, and throw my arms out in exasperation, asking, "What do you want?"

            His pace doesn't falter or even slow, if anything it speeds up. "You," is all he says and I can't help but snort.

            He wouldn't say so if he knew. Not that he has any business knowing, but *still*. Can't the guy take a hint?

            "No you don't." I say as I turn my back to him. On a second thought I call over my shoulder, "You don't know what you're getting into!" 

            As I round the corner I press myself against the brick. Muttering a quick spell I blend into the wall just as *he* comes around the corner.

            I hold my breath as I hear him say, "No, but I'd love to find out…"

            Would you? I think, would you *really*?

            He turns to go and I leave my hiding place, grabbing him about the shoulders and roughly slamming him against the wall.

            He whimpers slightly and it does nothing but drive me on. I kiss him roughly, pressing up against him like a dog in heat.

            I can't help but smile against his mouth as he moans lowly and splays his fingers through my hair, thrusting against me erratically. 

            I pull back and his mouth tries to follow mine. I chuckle and his eyes fly open, indignation written all over his porcelain features.

            "Is there a problem love?" He purrs it like sex, but you can feel his tension, his...curiosity, he's obviously not used to the word 'no.'

            "You. *don't*. want me. *Trust* me."

            He says, "I'd rather trust myself, thanks." With a sly grin as he pulls me down for a kiss fiercer than the last.

            Maybe I should trust him too…

            After all, one lay's all anyone's good for to him anyway.

            Tempting…*very* tempting.

            Some baser part of me, the part that's roughly shoving him back against the wall and grinding against his growing erection, while never breaking the kiss, is screaming for it.

            Fuck.

            The more 'sensible' parts of me are crying out for it too. 

            And that, if nothing else, is my signal to stop.

            It might be a one time thing for him, but it's already more than that for me.

            I'm not at all sure how to feel about it, let alone what to *do* about it.

            I pull sharply away and his resulting gasp goes straight to my groin.

            I move to go and he moves to protest.

            A rough shake of my head has him rethinking his protestations. 

            Or, maybe, it was something in my eyes. 

No more will my green see go turn a deeper blue 

_I could not force this thing happening to you_

_If I look hard enough into the setting sun_

_My love will laugh with me before the morning comes_


	5. Confusion

Stained Chpt 5: Confusion  
  
"Is love really the tragedy,  
The way you might describe,  
Or would a thousand lovers,  
Still leave you cold inside?"  
Savage Garden, "Tears of Pearls"  
  
a/n: lyrics are from Savage Garden...again... characters *still*   
belong jkr.  
  
He comes up behind me, out of no where.  
He grabs me and pushes me against the wall.  
And then he's kissing me, and it feels like forever.  
Forever...  
It's frightening.  
A one-time fuck was all I wanted.  
And now this.  
Denial.  
Carnal hunger.  
I want him.  
He's pressing up against me.  
It feels so wonderful.  
I moan and I can feel him smile.  
I spear my fingers through his hair.  
His dark, wonderful, silky hair.  
I roll my hips against him.  
He pulls away.  
I try to keep him kissing me, hoping that the pleasure will keep him   
from thinking...  
I can already tell he thinks *way* too much.  
He chuckles and my eyes snap open.  
"Is there a problem, love?"  
I purr the question.   
God, if he turns me down now...  
After I've tasted him...  
After I've felt his fire...  
I don't know what I'll do.  
I'm putting on my seductive persona...  
But it doesn't seem to be working...  
"You *don't* want me. *Trust* me.  
I try to keep my frustration from showing.  
"I'd rather trust myself, thanks..."  
I pull him down for another kiss.  
Deeper.  
Hotter.  
More thorough.  
I can feel him wavering.  
The heat...  
The passion...  
The wanting...  
He pushes me back against the wall...  
Hard.  
Then he's grinding against me...  
Hungry...  
Wanting...  
Needing...  
Closer.  
I want him closer.  
As I move to pull him nearer still, he jerks away.  
I gasp.  
The loss of contact is almost a physical pain.  
He starts to leave me.  
I try to grasp his arm.  
He shakes his head at me.  
Violently.  
Heartlessly.  
This one time...  
This once...  
I want something more.  
It wasn't supposed to be this way.  
It wasn't.  
But as he walks away, I feel something in me tearing.  
Something I'd built long ago.  
Something to protect me from things...  
Things like this.  
This hurt.  
This rejection.  
This wonder.  
This...  
Everything.  
And as he strides away, as he leaves me standing here...  
As my knees go weak and I lean against the wall for support, I   
call, "What are you so afraid of? Why can't you face me? What are you   
running from?"  
He glances over his shoulder at me.  
I can see something...  
Something deeper in his eyes.  
Something black and dangerous.  
Something that could...  
Will...  
Devour my soul should I get too close...  
But...  
He doesn't answer me.  
He just walks away.  
He turns another corner and I know he's gone.  
I slide down the wall.  
What's wrong with me?  
What's going on in my head?  
Deeper?  
Blacker?  
Where is it all coming from?  
I scream.  
An animal yell.  
Anger, frustration, surprise...  
Rejection, hurt, pain...  
Everything...  
I pour my soul into that scream.  
Right there on the street.  
Where anyone could hear me.  
I hope he hears me.  
I hope he understands.  
Because I sure as hell don't.


	6. Pieces

oki, you know the deal. they still aren't mine and the lyrics are avril's. and for the record? i hate this chapter. it sucks. i tore up the 'flashback scene' about 8 times. i should be shot.

Stained Ch. 6 Pieces

By regret.

Are you aware of what

You make me feel, baby

Right now I feel invisible to you

Like I'm not real

Didn't you feel me lock 

My arms around you

Why'd you turn away?

Losing Grip – Avril Lavigne.

            "…what are you running from?"

            His angry parting words stab straight and hot into a pain I buried long ago.

            He has no business asking such questions.

            He doesn't know me.

            He just…*wants* me…

            I toss a final, parting glance at him and what I see…*hurts*.

            His confusion and his…pain? hurts me.

            Shit.

            I gotta get away from here.

            Away from him.

            Before my imagination, and speculation, get the better of me.

            I round the corner and it feels as though a weight has been lifted. 

            His eyes pressed too heavy on my heart.

            And then…

            Then I hear him…scream.

            And it's not human, it's pure frustration and rage and desire and so so so much more.

            I quicken my pace, noticing the weight is back (heavier than ever), and say a quick thanks that my flat is so near to the club.

            Closing the heavy door with my foot, I magic it locked and drop everything.

            Keys, jacket, shoes, socks, and jeans. 

            They line the path from door to bed.

            I proceed to do a spread eagle face plant into the squishy mattress and fall quickly asleep as dawn breaks the horizon.

 * * * * *

            I awake more exhausted than when I went to bed, the setting sun streaming through the window.

            But dreams have a tendency to destroy one's peace.

            *Especially* when they drag up a past much better left six feet under.

            I pour myself a drink and head for the couch.

            It's all his fault, you know.

            Why couldn't he just let me walk away?

            With a sigh I let the memories come.

            They're the same every time.

            //Walking into the Three Broomsticks I'm hit by a blast from the past. 

I hadn't expected to ever see him again. 

Let alone here, by himself. 

The familiar surge of desire takes me by surprise and I realize I can't just walk on by.

I don't want to.

I've been given a second chance at him.

If only I knew how to go about it…

Grasping for my courage I clear my throat and ask,

"Harry? What're you doing here?"//

Who'd have thought that, with those few words and coincidence, love would be born? 

He ended up coming home with me that night.

//"Are you sure about this, Harry?" I ask, hoping like hell he is. 

"Yes."  
As if to prove it, he pulls me down for a rough, but sweet, kiss, his fingers finding their way into my robes.

Before I know it, we're standing naked in front of the bed.

And I don't know what to say to him.

What to do with my hands.

My mouth.

I don't want to hurt him.

He's…*perfect*…

Sensing my hesitation he pulls me against him, eyes burning into mine, branding my soul, and says, simply, "Just don't 

think about it, Ollie."

            And then he's kissing me and I forget everything.

            Everything exect what I want to do to him.//

            Two months later he graduated from Hogwarts and moved into my flat.

            Great Ministry access and all.

            I still don't understand why he didn't pursue Quidditch. 

He was never freer than when he was in the air, a broom stick between his knees and the wind in his hair.

Not even when he was with me.

Instead he became an Auror.

I guess he figured it was his duty.

He couldn't do something so 'frivolous' as play *Quidditch*.

He had to do something for the war effort.

Had to live up to everyone's warped expectations of the hero he was forced to be.

The night he left we made the sweetest love.

He'd always been reserved, almost passive, when we had sex.

I mean, there was no doubt that he enjoyed it, he just never really threw himself into it.

It was as if he was always waiting for the other shoe to fall.

But this time…*this* time it was different and intense and he was in control.

Like the first time, only without the nerves or the unknown.

I'd thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd say it that time.

That night.

He'd been going away so often lately.

And for much longer than in the past.

That coupled with my Quidditch schedule made it seem as though we were lucky to get three minutes alone together, let alone three days.

He'd never been able to say the words, and, though I wanted (desperately) to hear them, that was okay.

Because I knew.

Or I thought I did…

I, in turn, never told him either.

At least, not while he was awake.

I didn't want to scare him or make him feel as though he *had* to say it back.

But I did.

I loved him so much it hurt.

So much that nothing else felt real.

And I, with my naivety, thought we'd be together forever as one.

But that night…

He didn't tell me he

loved me.

He told me he was leaving me.

That what we had was 'nice', but had no lasting appeal.

That it was better to end it now, before either of us got too attached. 

It broke me to see that he didn't realize it was already to late.

He moved in with *Hermione* and 4 months, 2 weeks and 5 days later they were married.

I was invited.

I didn't go.

I couldn't be sure of what I would do.

What I would say.

How I would act.

So I sent a card.

And sat at home, getting obscenely drunk and recounting the pieces of my heart, wishing he'd give the missing one's back.

That was 2 years ago.

And I'm *not* running from it.

…I'm just not moving on either…

With a growl of frustration, and a muttered cleaning spell, I toss on a pair of pants and my boots.

Grabbing my jacket off the peg I slam the door behind me.

Looking at the sky I try and pick out the constellations and not think about *him*.

…He should be at the club.

He's always there.

I just don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. 


	7. May I?

I own nothing. The song in the story is Rapture by II0, as stated *in* the   
fic, but just to clarify. I don't own the lyrics to either Rapture or Starry   
Starry night, nor do I claim to own the characters.  
  
***  
  
Stained Chpt 7: May I?  
  
"Now I understand,  
What you tried to say to me,  
And how you suffered for your sanity,  
And how you tried set them free,  
They would not listen,  
They did not know how,  
Prehaps they'll listen now..."  
Josh Groban, "Starry Starry Night"  
  
***  
  
My head falls back against the wall.  
I look at the stars as they fade from the sky...  
As the rising sun tints the horizon...  
And as reality sets in.  
I can't stay here any longer.  
The *real* people will be waking soon.  
Many have already.  
They will tramp down the streets, the narrow corridors that form our city.  
They will wonder.  
I stand.  
I walk away from him.  
I walk in a different direction.  
I try to keep from thinking of him.  
Of everything.  
I don't analyze it.  
I don't want to.  
I try to ignore it all.  
But I can't.  
Why?  
Why does it have to be this way?  
I don't want this infatuation...  
But it has already become so much more.  
Is this what happens?  
Prolonged frustration equals this hurt?  
This pain?  
Never before.  
I wonder...  
Never again?  
What's wrong with me?  
I should let it all go.  
"Come on, Blaise. Get hold of yourself!"  
But his image as he turns and walks away keeps resurfacing.  
I walk the many blocks to my flat.  
My home.  
My prison.  
No one's ever come here.  
None of them even knew it existed.  
They didn't care.  
They took what they wanted behind buildings, in cars, in shadowed doorways.  
They didn't care where.  
As long as it was good.  
As long as it was quick.  
If it weren't for the club, I'd still be a whore.  
I'd still be wandering around these streets at night...  
Selling myself.  
The business.  
The payment.  
The torment.  
He thinks he's the only one with demons?  
With darkness in his soul?  
He thinks he's the only one to suffer?  
A woman in a nice suit walks across the street to avoid me.  
I look at what I'm wearing.  
Damn.  
If I were her, I'd avoid me, too.  
Tight, black leather pants, fish-net tank, combat boots...  
And my hair...  
Long.  
Flying away.  
Blowing in the morning breeze.  
I blink.  
Well, I've reached my building.  
I climb the stairs.  
I walk along my hall.  
The old lady who lives next door calls out a greeting.  
She's nice.  
She doesn't judge.  
"Hello, Blaise," she says, holding out her hand. "Would you care for some   
cookies?"  
God.  
Do I look eight years old?  
"Thank you, Mrs. Binkly."  
Sweet woman.  
"Now, Blaise, you remember. Get your sleep," she tells me.  
She worries too much.  
"Yes, Mrs. Binkly."  
She squints at me over the rims of her bi-focals.  
"I mean it, Blaise. You're looking more worn than usual."  
She has no idea.  
I nod.  
She hands me the cookies...  
And stands there.  
Oh...  
Right...  
I take out my key and open the door.  
She blows her white hair from her eyes and smiles.  
A lovily smile.  
I return it.  
"Thanks again, Mrs. Binkly."  
"Just take care of yourself, Blaise."  
I've lived here for over five years and she still gives me cookies.  
Chocolate chip.  
Freshly made.  
Sometimes I think she does it on purpose.  
She gets up at some ungodly hour and bakes me cookies.  
One day, I will find out.  
But right now, I'm tired.  
I undress after sitting the cookies on the counter in my mini-kitchen and   
fall into bed.  
Tired.  
But not quite enough.  
Almost there.  
But still awake enough to think.  
To remember.  
The feel of him pressing against me.  
The desire I felt throbbing through him...  
Me...  
The empty coldness as he walked away.  
It reminds me so vividly...  
So hauntingly...  
Of my life before the club.  
The false promises, the meaninglessness of everything.  
The moments of security, safety...  
The lies.  
And the harsh slap dealt me by reality in the morning.  
Usually, I'm told, the whores are the ones who wake first and leave.  
Not me.  
I was always the one to wake and find them gone.  
Never the same person twice.  
The empty promises.  
The hollow words.  
And my soft heart.  
My needy soul.  
Always broken.  
Why?  
Why can't I be hard?  
They all believe I am.  
They all think I'm so cold.  
I turn over onto my side, sliding my arm under my pillow.  
I stare at the blinds...  
They shroud me in darkness.  
Bitterness.  
He wanted me.  
He knew it.  
Watching the light around the edges of the blinds change from red to orange   
to yellow I can feel my consciousness slipping...  
And the last thing I see before I fall into my dreams is his face.  
His eyes...  
So dark.  
So haunted.  
So hurt...  
  
~~~  
  
I awake to the sound of my alarm clock.  
I dreamt.  
I know I did.  
But as always, there is only one thing I remember.  
A faceless man.  
A person I know I could count on.  
Who stayed with me...  
All night long.  
Who stayed, when everyone else left.  
Only this time, he was not faceless.  
This time, I could feel him inside me.  
This time...  
It was so real.  
I could taste him.  
This time...  
It was Oliver.  
Dark hair.  
Dark eyes...  
So beautiful.  
I lay here for a few minutes, listening to the repetitive clanking of my   
alarm clock.  
I turn it off.  
I get up.  
I take a shower.  
9PM.  
I have to be at the club by 10 so I can start the entertainment...  
Going to the kitchen I grab the cookies off the counter and head for the   
door.  
Swinging my jacket over my shoulders I leave the building.  
The club is just beginning to get loud as I arrive.  
The DJ's setting up a demanding pace...  
As the dancers step onto the floor for the next dance, I feel him coming in.  
I can sense him as he opens the door.  
It's driving me mad.  
Insane.  
I want him.  
I need...  
Something.  
The song has been playing.  
Rapture.  
By II0...  
So appropriate...  
  
"Don't you know,  
My love I want you so,  
Sugar,  
You make my soul complete,  
Rapture tastes so sweet,  
I'm mesmerised in every way,  
You keep my in a state of daze,  
Your kisses make my skin feel weak,  
Always suffering in your heat..."  
  
The lights twist and spin.  
The beat picks up.  
The music flows all around me...  
And draws me nearer to him.  
I don't mean to.  
I try not to.  
But I am pulled.  
Closer and closer.  
And he's not moving.  
He's just standing there.  
Waiting?  
What's going on?  
  
"Lift our souls like a bird in the wind,  
Oh I glide like I'm flying through Heaven..."  
  
I see his eyes sweep over the crowds once more...  
And then he turns...  
He walks to the bar...  
And he knocks back a drink...  
I wonder if he saw me...  
I don't think he did...  
But I am not thinking much of anything...  
I could be wrong...  
And then, just as I move to talk to him at the bar...  
Some little child slides up behind him and...  
I can see hope blossoming in his eyes...  
As he turns...  
And then...  
He sees who it is and the light goes away...  
But he still…  
Follows the boy out onto the dance floor...  
Dancing.  
He is dancing.  
I am lost.  
He is dancing with someone else...  
And I can't take my eyes off the way his hips move...  
Redemption has been cast aside.  
No hope.  
No chance for help.  
But I don't call for it.  
I don't need it.


	8. Forget

all disclaimers are still in chapter one, we haven't suddenly come into to possession of the characters, damnit.

i dedicate this chapter to cai, thanks for pulling me out of my funk, sweet. *kiss*. *too much love*

Stained

Forget (8/?)

By regret

theregretfairy@yahoo.com

It took someone

Putting a gun to my head

To make me realize

All the things I could not do

            Now that I'm here I don't know what to do with myself.

            I see him, watch him move among the masses, they sway to his beat, but still, he's not really a part of them.

            He's their trophy.

            (Does he see me too (clearly)?

                                    He must…)

            I'm rooted to this spot, just inside the doorway (a bit hard to miss), looking for a sign. 

            Something, anything to tell me just what the hell I'm supposed to be doing now.

            I don't feel as though I have the right to approach him…

            To make the first move.

            What am I supposed to say?

            'Hey, sorry I was such a prick last night, but I'd really like to bugger you now. So whaddaya say, no hard feelings?'

            Oh yeah.

            That'd go over *real* well.

            I'd be lucky (and grateful) not to get my arse kicked up around my ears.

            But…

            Well…

            It just doesn't feel right to leave it all up to him, either.

To make it his decision, even if that's exactly what it is.

Though, to a part of me, it feels as though the decision has already been made (I just don't know by who or when or why), rendering us helpless.

Helpless to ignore it when it's a poison screaming through our veins in between every heart beat and shuddered perusal and flicker and want.

I'm drowning in a sea of my own, conflicting, emotions; the waves breaking hard against my back.

Lust.

Confusion. 

And something stronger, more tangible than desire, *possibility*.

The colored lights flash green as the song changes.

Green; it's a color that never fails to make me think of Harry.

Always of Harry.

Of his eyes and Quidditch robes and callousness.

After he left I tattooed his initials on my hip…

That way I will (would??) always remember the lessons he taught me.

Lessons about love.

About life.

About betrayal and heartbreak and a desperation so thick it kills whatever you've got left.

I've got Harry Potter's initials on the crest of my left hip in swirling glitter-green script so I can't forget.

(So I can't take anyone home for keeps.)

Forgetting is a dangerous thing and I've learned to play it safe.

So safe it burns hollows in what was once a reckless soul.

It all made a rather lot of poetic sense when I was drunk.

Now it's just another piece to a puzzle that's gone missing.

A constant reminder of a pain that doesn't need one.

They all ask about it, every single one, without fail.

I wonder if he will…

(Provided we ever make it that far.)

I wonder if he will, hoping he won't – I don't think I can lie to those rough-cut sapphire eyes.

He makes me want to forget…

The lights go to blue as the song shifts again, becomes more melancholy.

Blue on Blue on Blue on Blue.

It is the color of him.

My eyes attempt at searching him out and I mourn the distance and the people that separate us.

(Even one's that aren't here.)

I wish I could reach out and touch him.

*Now*.

Growling lowly in my throat I stalk to the bar.

This may be easier if I get thoroughly pissed.

Though, honestly, I can be a bit of a loon when I'm drunk.

And rather prone to fits of thoughtless behavior.

But, alas, getting smashed not only provides me with something to do while I wait (for what, I'm not quite sure), but it's the best (the only) damned plan I've got.

Reaching the bar I bark out my order and slam it back.

Damn, should've asked for a double.

I'm about to when long, lithe fingers circle about my wrist and a husky voice practically purrs, "Let's dance," into my ear.

It's not him, but, for the moment, he'll do.

A nameless, faceless, wonder.

A tool to both forget, and receive, what I came here for.

I hope…

We move onto the floor and I can't help but evaluate the boy – he can't be a day over 17, all leather and kohl and sweat.

His features are sharp, carmine lips too generous on a face possessing eyes older than they should be.

He presses against me, hips swaying to the beat, and I'm rocked by how wrong it feels.

Utterly and totally, spectacularly *wrong*.

His body doesn't fit, feels forever half a second out of tune.

Hard where it should be soft and cold.

So, so cold.

Has he no warmth?

Does his blood run like ice through veins frozen by circumstance?

It wouldn't surprise me to find it true.

Blaise…

Blaise, on the other hand, *was* warmth.

So much heat, a fire that I feared would burn even as I willed it to.

I wonder if he's watching.

If he can see through this ruse, if he can sense my boredom.

Glancing about, avidly searching for a flash of him, I allow myself to fear, for the first time, that he won't come.

Won't rescue me from this parody I've allowed myself to partake in.


	9. Rapture

The first song is still Rapture, by II0. The second is Do Ya (Feel the Love Tonight) by Love Inc. (Yes, it's techno, they're in a club, deal.)  
This is dedicated to Kass, (who's blushing) because she's just that cool.  
All disclaimers in previous chapters.  
  
***  
  
His eyes lock with mine...  
Over the shoulder of the boy he's dancing with...  
I'm still moving toward him.  
I'm still dancing through the crowds.  
I'm still...  
Asking for permission.  
Can I?  
May I?  
Pretty please?  
Will he let me?  
Do I dare?  
And they all stand back.  
Wanting it to happen.  
The crowds part.  
An open pathway.  
A deserted road.  
With him at the end.  
The lights still swirling.  
The music still playing...  
  
"Mi amore,  
Don't you know,  
My love I want you so,  
Sugar,  
You make my soul complete,  
Rapture tastes so sweet..."  
  
The only thing standing in my way is the boy...  
Who does not look like he's willing to give up his prize...  
The little boy...  
Who looks so...  
Worn...  
So fake...  
He stands in my way...  
I walk toward them...  
I...  
Don't know what I'm doing.  
I want him...  
Not the boy...

But the boy is in the way...  
I motion for one of the other dancers to take his mind off my prey...  
And in seconds he has forgotten all about him...  
But...  
Having done the work of getting him alone...  
The people standing around...  
Having made a path...  
Having let my attentions be known...  
Stare.  
I narrow my eyes.  
But I want him.  
And he knows.  
I thought...  
I thought I saw something there...  
As he looked through the crowds...  
And still the people around me stare.  
I growl.  
And the man approaching me spins around and walks in the opposite direction.  
At least they understand.  
Lord knows *he* doesn't!  
I bite my lip.  
I nod to the person nearest me.  
But I shake my head when they ask if I want to dance.  
Fine.  
He wants to be that way...?  
I can...  
Put myself through the ringers.  
I will...  
Do what I must to have him.  
I walk toward him...  
Along the path made for me...  
I walk to him...  
And I am mesmerized by the carelessness with which he dances...  
The way he doesn't seem to give a damn what others think…

He is catching me up in a game I don't know if I can win...  
But in the end...  
If what we both want happens...  
How can I loose?

And so, when his back is turned...  
I walk nearer to him...  
And trail my hand down his back...  
His cloth clad back...  
And I feel him start...  
Stiffen slightly...  
Didn't know I was coming, did you, love?  
I let my forefinger slip past the edge of his pants and then, as I move around to face him, I drag my finger with me...  
Letting him know...  
And when my finger catches at the buttons of his pants...  
I arch an eye brow...  
And run my other hand up under his shirt...  
Does he understand?  
Can he feel it?  
Will he see that this isn't just a one time thing for me?  
What does he think if he does?  
What does he want?  
And then...  
Then we are dancing...  
Then the music is loud...  
The crowds disappear...  
The lights are our universe...  
The lights and each other...

I can see something in his eyes...  
In the dark depths of his soul...  
That I don't quite understand...  
But that I want to...  
And he is pulling me closer...  
He is melding me to him...  
Almost...  
Almost trying to make us one...  
Suddenly, that song ends...  
That song...  
Ends...  
And another begins...  
  
"You know I've landed,  
Somewhere south of my mind,  
From you I get a feeling,  
That opens my eyes..."  
  
Fast...  
I love this...  
The songs...  
The feel of him dancing with me...  
Against me...  
As everything revolves around us...  
And everything is fracturing...  
Dissolving into a million pieces...  
But that's okay...  
It's not despair that's causing this disintegration...

It's happiness...


	10. Perfect

all previous disclaimers *still* apply.

Stained Ch. 10

Perfect by regret

            The beat, the movement, the energy…

            Everything's sped up.

            As if we're all just pieces…

            Pieces of something *bigger*…

Something that's wound itself too tightly…

            Spinning us off our axis.

            I wonder if he'd be there to catch me if I fell…

            Wonder if he's falling too…

            Something about the way he looked at me…

            Something about the way he touched me…

            Something about the way he's moving against me…

            It screams of forever and passion and joy.

            Screams of permanence and want and please.

            I wonder if he hears me screaming back.

            Wonder if he can sense my fear and hesitancy.

            Wonder if he can understand it…

            He obviously sense's it, even if he can't understand it, because he's shaking his head.

            Eyes willing me to stay present, stay focused.

            …on him…

            Him and Him and Him.

            The riot of color and sound and shape that swirls about us is quickly forgotten, blocked out, as his hands begin to move against me again.

            Calming my worries as they feed my desire.

            Christ, if I get any harder I'll break!

            His eyes gleam mischievously as he brushes against me, again…

            Sweetly, softly…

            Teasing and torture.

            No one's ever made me feel as he does.

            Not ever…

            Not even…

            …Harry…

            I can't help my shudder, the way my stomach flops and my heart plummets.

            He looks up at me, hands stilling, a desperate question flaring in his bottomless eyes.

            He'll leave me.

            In the end.

            Just like Harry did.

            He'll leave me.

            In the end.

            Even if he doesn't mean to, now.

            He will…

            And it hurts more than it should.

            That and the realization that I don't want him to both.

            His face has fallen; he's pulling away now.

            Hands leaving me,

            Face turning away,

            And GOD how I don't want him to go!

            I reach out and catch his hands, tugging him, gently, back to me.

            His eyes hold the question of why as my hands tremble, his face wary.

            I didn't mean to make him doubt, to turn away…

            But I've rejected him once already.

            I didn't mean to here.

            I was too caught up with his rejection of me.

            A rejection I hope never comes…

            I smile, a little, and say, "Just touch me. And don't leave me, not tonight."

            If I found him beautiful before, there is no word to describe what he is when he smiles.

            Even if it was a slightly sad smile of understanding.

            A surprisingly soft smile of acceptance.

            I wonder what he looks like when he comes…

            My breath catches as his hands skim over my hips, drawing me close.

            His body is perfect against mine…

            Perfect size.

            Perfect shape.

            Perfect height.

            Perfect.

            Perfect.

            Perfect…

            He's looking up and me, and there's wonder in his eyes.

            Does he feel it too?

            His tongue darts out to lick at his lips, a soft shade of crushed berry-pink, and I can't help but stare.

            And think of a million and one uses for that mouth of his.

            Not the least of which being a desire to hear my name slip from it as I take him, slowly, eyes shuddering shut, face slack…

            Shit…

            He really is amazing.

            His eyes are a helpless plea as I lower my head, eyes never leaving his mouth.

            He wants this as badly as I do, his body tense and waiting, wishing and hoping.

            I brush my lips against his and husk out his name, unused to my dominant position.

            "Blaise."

            He whimpers lightly, pressing back against me, body crying out for more.

            I give it to him without thinking.

            I've come home.


	11. Understand

Stained Chpt 11  
  
Understand  
  
By Cai  
  
***  
  
"You whisper in my ear the words,  
  
Just hold me closer tonight,  
  
Hold me tonight,  
  
And when the pain is holding me,  
  
Your touch,  
  
It sets me free..."  
  
Enrique Iglasias, "If the World Crashes Down"  
  
***  
  
There is magic here.  
  
There is something more.  
  
Something intangible that I have only dreamed of...  
  
And I'm so caught up in it.  
  
I'm so oblivious to it all...  
  
Until he's shuddering.  
  
Until I see a coldness seep into his eyes...  
  
Until I sense the ending of something that has barely begun...  
  
Something that would make it all worth it...  
  
That would make *living* worthwhile...  
  
I shake my head...  
  
I know this feeling.  
  
It will not go away.  
  
It will haunt me for the rest of my life.  
  
This emptiness that follows me.  
  
I will never escape it.  
  
I begin to pull away, knowing that I have lost the chance.  
  
Whatever stalks his soul will not leave us in peace.  
  
It's better to stop this before it begins...  
  
It really is.  
  
The pain of becoming attached...  
  
The hurt that will come when it ends...  
  
Why am I telling myself these things?  
  
Why?  
  
Can't I ever just be happy?  
  
No...  
  
Never me...  
  
And so I start to leave...  
  
But...  
  
Something holds me back.  
  
I look at him and see regret...  
  
I see the same fear in his eyes that resides in my heart...  
  
I knew it was there...  
  
The blackness...  
  
The agony...  
  
But I can see it so clearly now...  
  
And he says, "Just touch me. And don't leave me, not tonight."  
  
I can't help it.  
  
I smile.  
  
It's a smile of understanding...  
  
Commiseration...  
  
He thinks I will leave.  
  
I must show him that I won't...  
  
I draw him closer...  
  
Must prove...  
  
Must show...  
  
I run my fingers along his hips...  
  
He could hold me so easily...  
  
He's tall enough...  
  
Broad enough...  
  
Strong enough...  
  
Right...  
  
This is so right...  
  
Suddenly I am rocked by the magnitude of this...  
  
This emotion.  
  
This feeling.  
  
This...  
  
This...  
  
What is this? Love?  
  
Am I foolish enough to have fallen for him?  
  
I glance up at him in wonder...  
  
I lick my lips and...  
  
The fascination I see in his eyes as he lowers his head...  
  
The plea I know is in mine...  
  
Everything comes crashing down as he brushes his lips against mine...  
  
Everything just...  
  
Makes sense...  
  
For a brief moment...  
  
I find clarity.  
  
I want more.  
  
I need more.  
  
I press against him.  
  
"Blaise," he whispers against my lips.  
  
I whimper.  
  
I can't deal with another end...  
  
The world doesn't matter...  
  
Nothing matters but this.  
  
But him and us and everything we'll do...  
  
He gives me all I ask for.  
  
More passion...  
  
More tongue.  
  
More everything...  
  
But...  
  
Suddenly I notice it...  
  
We are the center of attention.  
  
The people have cleared a circle around us...  
  
They are going to watch...  
  
I can't let them watch.  
  
It would ruin everything.  
  
And so our little world comes crashing down.  
  
The mood...  
  
The longing...  
  
Everything we'd had moments before...  
  
Disappears.  
  
I can't let our first time be a show.  
  
Next time...  
  
Or the time after that...  
  
Maybe...  
  
But not our first.  
  
I take a step back.  
  
It's the hardest thing I have ever done.  
  
I back away from him.  
  
Can he understand this?  
  
Can he see it in my eyes.  
  
I shake my head.  
  
I can't do this right now.  
  
I know my pay will get docked for this.  
  
I don't care.  
  
But I can't let our first time be a spectacle...  
  
I need to feel him...  
  
To know him...  
  
To touch every part of his body and understand what makes him work...  
  
So I back away.  
  
I take his hand.  
  
I pray he won't pull away from me...  
  
His expression is confounded...  
  
His eyes are searching mine...  
  
I try to let him know...  
  
I try to make him see...  
  
But it's not until we leave through the back door...  
  
It's not until we get out onto the street...  
  
Having forgotten our coats...  
  
And it's not until after the people inside have realized that we're not coming back...  
  
That he understands.  
  
Thank God.  
  
It's not until we get to my flat...  
  
The flat that no one else has ever seen...  
  
And pass a staring Mrs. Binkly in the hallway...  
  
That he realizes *why* exactly we had to leave...  
  
I'm just praying Mrs. Binkly doesn't have as good a hearing aid as I think she does...  
  
I am not a quiet lover... 


End file.
